


In The Making

by writetherest



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetherest/pseuds/writetherest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She dreams at night, of things she can't quite remember in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Making

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Awesome Ladies Ficathon prompt: Juliet - _Now I'm lost in a sea of sunken dreams, while the sound of drunken screams echoes in the night._.

She dreams at night, of things she can't quite remember in the morning. Fuzzy pictures, flashes, filled with submarines and planes and an island that she can never quite recall, no matter how hard she tries to cling to the image.

**

The first time it happens is innocent enough. She's in the kitchen, cooking with the radio tuned to an oldies station as background music. A new song starts and she vaguely registers it as 'Downtown'.

Then suddenly, it's like she's having an out of body experience, because she's no longer in the kitchen, but instead standing in front of a mirror, staring at her reflection. She feels like she is ready to crumble, when the smell of something burning assaults her.

She blinks, hard, and it takes her a minute to realize that she's back in the kitchen, that the other room and the mirror aren't real, and that the muffins she's baking for the PTO fundraiser are burning in her oven.

**

Seven year old David proudly presents her with a wrapped present for her birthday. She opens it to find a copy of _Carrie_ , which brings a smile to her face.

"You like it, Mommy?"

"I love it. This is my favorite book." She tells him, hugging him tight.

_"So I am absolutely thrilled that you can't stand it."_ She hears her own voice echo in her head, and tries to shake it away and grasp a hold of it at the same time.

**

Jack is watching television when she gets home from the hospital and collapses next to him on the couch. He's got some old western on and all the men are out on horses, roping cattle to be branded.

She watches as the hot iron burns into the flesh of the steer and suddenly it's as though the iron is touching her skin. Her back feels like it's on fire, and she's gasping in pain and flinching against it.

She's never been burnt, never been branded, but the pain is so real and vivid, she'd swear she had been.

"Juliet, you okay?" Jack asks, even as he changes the channel. She can say nothing, only wait until the pain subsides.

**

"What are you saying, Jules, that you're remembering... what? Some other life or something?" Rachel asks her across her dining room table.

"I don't - I don't know, Rach. I just keep having these... flashes."

Rachel reaches out, squeezes her hand. "Honey, maybe you should see a therapist."

"Maybe." She says vaguely, her eyes glued to where Julian runs around in the other room, a little toy plane in his hands.

**

The summer when David is 12, they go to Disneyland together. They ride all the rides and have a wonderful time. David insists that they go on the Tower of Terror last, and she cannot say no to him.

It's fine at first, the introduction and all of that is sort of creepy, but not _scary_. She's enjoying herself because David is enjoying himself. But then, the drop comes. Suddenly she's free falling and it's not just the safe free fall of the ride with the safety belts and lap bars and cart keeping her locked in place.

It's actually falling, falling, falling, _falling_. There's a tightness around her stomach like something is squeezing, squeezing, _squeezing_ the very life out of her and she's reaching, trying to hang on to something, something that must have slipped out of her hand. Her throat is hoarse from screaming and crying, but it's no use. She's still just falling with the tightness and the pain increasing, and there's only one way this can possibly end.

The ride 'hits' the bottom and begins its climb back up for another drop, but she knows nothing after she hits the bottom. Knows nothing but the pain, the pure excruciating pain and the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, dripping down her throat.

By the time the ride is over, she is deathly white, shaking, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Mom? Mom?" David is frightened. He's never seen her like this before. "Mom?"

Finally his voice cuts through and she slowly begins to realize where she is. "David?"

They exit the ride, but it takes nearly an hour before the pain goes away and she manages to stop shaking.

**

She pulls into Starbucks on a Thursday morning, in need of her daily coffee fix. There is an LAPD cruiser in the spot next to hers, she notes as she heads for the door.

Two officers are heading out the door as she heads in. She stops short to let them go and the officer in front, the one holding the coffee carrier, nearly runs into her.

"Smooth Miles." The other one says, holding the door for her.

She smiles at him and he smiles back. And it's as though she knows him, but she just can't quite place him. She turns for a second look, but by then the cruiser is already headed down the road.

She sighs and orders her coffee.

**

She dreams at night, of things she can't quite remember in the morning. Fuzzy pictures, flashes, filled with yellow flowers and tangled bed sheets and a man whose face she can never quite recall, no matter how hard she tries to cling to the image.

But unlike the other flashes and dreams, that she can't make sense of, or that fill her with fear, these dreams make her feel safe, loved. Like there is something or someone out there, somewhere, looking for her.

She just has to wait for it.  



End file.
